


Tangled and Wild

by MelayneSeahawk



Series: Acta Est Fabula [6]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Dark, Gen, Internalized Homophobia, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 06:15:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16299680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelayneSeahawk/pseuds/MelayneSeahawk
Summary: But in my heart there's a country tangled and wild





	Tangled and Wild

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I was thinking when I originally drafted this.

Jack ran. He emptied his bank accounts and packed what little clothing and other sundries he needed and headed south, the last place anyone would think to look. Eventually he wound up in a little town outside of Phoenix, Arizona, and he bought a little house on the outskirts with cash. He set up a new identity under an alias he hadn’t used since the Cold War and settled in to wait. He figured they’d find him eventually, but he didn’t have to make it easy for them. And at least they’d find him on his own turf, so to speak.

 

It took two years before the paranoia got to him and he moved again, this time to Galveston. New Orleans the year after, Charlotte after that, trying to lose himself in cities when small towns became too oppressive. He changed his name and his car each time, but he still saw Daniel’s bloodied face when he closed his eyes, felt the strain of bruised and torn knuckles when he woke in the morning. Still wondered where it had all gone so wrong.

 

It was three years and many more moves before the letter came. Addressed to his current alias, no return address, Colorado postmark, and Jack realized he was practically holding an unexploded bomb in his hands. For a moment he considered destroying the letter without opening it, but sensible precaution won out: better to know than not.

 

_ Dear Jack _ , the letter began, the typed words impersonal and bleak.  _ It’s taken me a while to find you, though I know that was your intention. I won’t bore you with the details of how I found you, but let me say that this is not the first letter I’ve sent. Hopefully this one will actually make its way to you. _

 

_ I don’t forgive you, let me start with that. I’ve thought a lot about why you did what you did -- internalized homophobia and constructs of masculinity, so-called Gay Panic and inebriation, societal expectations and military social structures and pain turned to anger. But what I don’t think I’ll ever understand is how I got you so very, very wrong. I know I didn’t imagine the closeness between us, the attention you paid me, the way you looked at me when you thought no one was looking. _

 

_ Did you love me once? Did that love curdle into hatred when I accidentally forced you to grapple with what that love might mean? Or was I wrong about everything, able to understand cultures thousands of years gone but not day to day human interaction? _

 

_ Were you trying to kill me that night? Or just hit the problem until it went away? You succeeded in the latter, certainly. Most of the vision has returned to my left eye by this point, but the nerve damage in my hands took some getting used to. I’ll probably always walk with a limp, but it’s barely noticeable now. _

 

_ I honestly don’t remember how I got to the hospital, though I eventually made it back to Janet’s care. The others were very worried when you disappeared the same time I was beaten. At the time I told everyone I didn’t remember what happened, didn’t remember if you had been hurt or where you had gone. I’m not sure what people thought, or what effort was made to find you; no one talked to me about it, and by the time I was back on my feet it was as if you’d never existed. _

 

_ Don’t try to write back, not that I really think you will. By the time you receive this, I will probably be gone. The Program is transferring me to another site, and I jumped at the chance. There’s not much I can say about it, but you would say I’m going to a galaxy far, far away. The opportunity was too good to pass up, and it’s not like there’s much left on Earth for me anyway. _

 

The letter was unsigned, not that it mattered. Jack reread the letter until it felt like the words were carved into his brain, then dropped his head into his hands, full of an emotion he was afraid to name.


End file.
